


Ordinary strangeness

by Cartonsofcartoons



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Amnesia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:37:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cartonsofcartoons/pseuds/Cartonsofcartoons
Summary: They tell him it’s the year 2018. That he fell in practice and hit his head hard.The last thing he remembers is winning gold in Sochi back in 2015. Three years of his life missing and they won’t tell him about them which is strange. He can’t imagine much to have happened in that missing time. When Viktor looks over his life, he can’t really tell the last few years apart.





	

 

They tell him it’s the year 2018. That he fell in practice and hit his head hard.

 

The last thing Viktor remembers is the crowd cheering for him as he stands in the middle after winning gold at the 2015 Grand Prix in Sochi. He’s missing a lot, he can tell. The way the doctors and Yakov look at each other, the fact that his rink mates are all there even though he hadn’t been that close to them from what he remembers. And then, there’s the other man with them, the Japanese skater. A new rink mate, which was strange. Yakov didn’t take on too many students but the ones he did were usually Russian.

 

It’s strange that they’re so obviously keeping so much from him. When Viktor looks over his life, he can’t really tell the last few years apart, he could only distinguish them by his skating programs really. The doctors make sure to inform him not to look himself up in the news and take his phone away from him. Viktor doesn’t understand why, apart from pictures of Makkachin and of himself and the cities he travels to, he doesn’t really have much to post. Last he knew his instagram was nothing more than food, Makkachin and selfies. Surely, his life couldn’t be so different now that they need to keep him away from it all?

 

Except it is. They’ve made sure to clear his apartment of all the things that might distress or trigger him and it leaves a mark.

 

His house feels oddly empty. And that’s very strange because he really has more things than he did before. There’s a washing machine, which makes no sense, Viktor uses a laundry service for the most part. There’s a ton of actual silverware rather than the plastic shit he usually uses, as if he actually eats at home instead of having his meals tailored to diet plans and delivered every day. The window ledge is an actual seat now, with fluffy pillows and a little niche nearby filled with books.

 

His house is a _home_. And he is a stranger in it.

 

But at least he has his skating.

 

* * *

 

They are all actual _friends_.

 

It astounds Viktor, really. Mila, Georgi, and Yuri, they’d always been there but they had never been friends before. Now, Yuri passive-aggressively feeds him piroshki from his grandfather, Mila teases him about a sex life he couldn’t remember, Georgi dramatically talks of Anya and vodka, and not just about crushing him in competitions.

 

And then there’s the new guy. Katsuki Yuuri, who apparently wasn’t a new guy at all. He’s been there for two years now apparently, and both those years and the year before that no one talked of, he had actually placed on the podium for the Grand Prix. He even got _gold_ last year, and Viktor hadn’t even believed it possible.

 

Oh, he knew his skating was lacklustre compared to earlier years. It was the last thing he remembered, after all, standing with a gold medal in hand but so disappointed in his skating. He had felt it in the way he moved in Stammi Vicino, telling the story but not expressing the feeling behind it, but he still hadn’t thought someone would surpass him. The judges always seemed to over score his artistic elements just because he was the Viktor Nikiforov.

 

The year Yuri had won gold, Viktor hadn’t even been competing, although no one would tell him why, but this Katsuki guy had left Viktor to be content with silver last year.

 

It's fascinating.

 

“So, you’re the new guy?” Viktor skates up to Yuuri and asked. There’s a weird tension in the other man as he nods. “Katsuki Yuuri, right?”

 

“Right,” The man smiles and Viktor feels warmth settle all over him even though it is a tight, awkward smile.

 

“I’m sorry I don’t remember you.”

 

“It’s not your fault, Vitya,” He says softly and Viktor is taken aback. So, he and Katsuki were close enough for him to call him Vitya? No wonder he was so awkward, having a good friend forget all about him like that.

 

But still, Katsuki—no, not Katsuki, _Yuuri_ , if he calls Viktor Vitya then he must Yuuri—smiles at him, gentle and concerned, “I’m glad you’re alright.”

 

“I hear it was a nasty fall,” Viktor says, probing for more information. The doctors wouldn’t tell him anything and everyone else was being tight-lipped too. Trauma, they said but Viktor didn’t feel traumatised. He felt empty as he always did.

 

Yuuri swallows hard and his breath becomes faster. He stares off at a spot on the ice blankly as if seeing something happen, hands fisting beside his thigh, “It was bad,”

 

“Oi, Katsudon, stop dicking around during practice!” Yuri yells and Viktor can’t help but pout at having their conversation interrupted.

 

“Yurio’s growing up to be such an angry little kitten,” He laments only to turn back to Yuuri upon hearing his sharp intake of breath, “What?”

 

Yuuri just stares at him, something in his eyes that makes Viktor feel uncomfortable, like he should do something, kiss away that worry of his but before he can even complete the wayward thought Yuuri shakes it off. “Nothing. Yurio’s right, I should go back to practice.”

 

He skates away, albeit reluctantly and Viktor is left standing there, watching his back get smaller with a strange sense of loss.

 

It isn’t until he gets back home that Viktor wonders why he had called Yuri ‘Yurio’.

 

* * *

 

They could keep things from him, his past and all that but not his skating. Not with the Russian nationals coming up and Viktor needed to practice the routine that he didn’t remember.

 

Apparently, the only person who knew it well enough was Katsuki. For some reason, when he was asked if he could teach Viktor his routine, his answer had been that he could handle it, which was just yet another oddity in this world Viktor didn’t remember.

 

Why would he need to be able to ‘handle it’? They weren’t speaking physically, he could tell that. So, what about teaching Viktor his routine could be so traumatising?

 

The routine is _hard_. It’s no wonder though, Viktor must have to up his standards to compete with this generation of skaters but he hadn’t expected this. Viktor choreographed his own routines and they were good but they were never _beautiful_ the way this one was. Or maybe it was just the way Katsuki skated it?

 

Because he _was_ beautiful on ice. Viktor could see why he lost to someone like him.

 

“You skate like your body is making the music,” Viktor can’t help but marvel and Yuuri trips over nothing in the middle of a spiral, staring at Viktor with wide eyes.

 

He opens and closes his mouth a dozen times, as if wondering what to say before finally settling on a simple, “Thank you.”

 

Viktor hadn’t thought how hard it must be for others, his memory loss. It was frustrating for him to have these gaps in his life but it must be just as frustrating for all these people to always be aware and conscious that he was not the man they were used to, to be careful with what they tell him, careful with how they tease him.

 

Yuuri brings his hand up to rub his face, worriedly and Viktor notices the ring on his finger.

 

“Oh, you’re married? Congratulations!” He wishes the man happiness although he does not feel it. For some reason the thought of this wonderful man standing in groom’s attire next to someone faceless person fills his mouth with an acrid, bitter taste. It feels wrong in his mind somehow and he doesn’t know the reason why.

 

Yuuri startles though, looking so close to tears Viktor just wants to go over to him and hold him close. If it feels wrong to imagine him with someone (else) then it feels even worse to see him all but crying.

 

“I’m not...It’s complicated.” He says softly before shaking his shoulders out, as if that would get rid of the dark thoughts and turns a watery smile to Viktor, “Let’s go through the program once more, shall we?”

 

And Viktor, unwilling to upset him anymore than he already has, agrees.

 

* * *

 

The person he used to be was _happy_. It is a strange realisation to make especially in the way it happens. It’s one of many late nights and Viktor is at the rink, skating again. Some nights he practises his step sequences, some nights he just glides aimlessly. It’s better than the alternative.

 

“You’re still here,” Yurio says and the surprise takes Viktor back, “Not used to seeing you here so late,”

 

“Oh?”

 

Yurio shrugs even as he comes out onto the ice to keep Viktor company, “Usually you rush back home the minute practice ends.” He says causally as if it’s nothing new. Yurio’s the only one who’ll give him hints like that but only because he’s careless in a way the others aren’t. He doesn’t even realise that he’s shocked Viktor to the core.

 

Because skating until late in the night is something Viktor has always done. He feels lonely in his house, always has. So for him to leave to go home early?

 

He must have been _happy_.

 

What must that have been like, he wonders.

 

* * *

 

Viktor wakes up with a headache. As the pain swells, he whines and turns in bed searching for comfort. Makkachin is curled up in front of him but he can’t help but feel bereft. He closes his eyes and imagines a body behind him, an arm slung over his chest woven through his own arms, clasped over his heart and sighs.

 

The pain fades but the emptiness does not.

 

* * *

 

Viktor begins to understand why they didn’t just tell him what happened in those missing years. Suddenly he has friends and family now, he laughs more somehow even though he doesn’t quite remember them and he knows this is just a pale shadow compared to what he used to have.

 

It would be strange for him, to go from feeling strangely numb and shooting polite, media-smiles to having every reason to laugh loudly. Even the bit of happiness he has now is overwhelming at times let alone the rest.

 

He’s proud when Yuri shows him the choreography Viktor had done that had won him gold, confused when the whole group laughs at a joke that he doesn’t quite get, an inside thing, snoops around with Mila for Georgi’s new girlfriend’s information, gets nostalgic when Lilia and Yakov have their fights on the rink side.

 

And then there’s Yuuri. He’s fascinated when he watches the man skate, melts when he stops to explain anything Viktor gets confused about, cannot help but watch the smug laughter Yuuri hides when a certain Otabek’s name flashes on Yurio’s phone and is thoroughly distracted when Yuuri goes through his stretches in the locker room.

 

But more than that he _wants_ , wants to be that person who fit in so well in their lives, in Yuuri’s life, wants to be the one that gold ring on his finger belongs to and that’s the strangest feeling of them all.

 

Viktor isn’t used to wanting things. But he’s learning to get used to it.

 

* * *

 

 

He wants to know now, more desperately than ever. It’s been months and there are years of his life that he’s missing out on. The media blackout gets to him, knowing that it would be so easy to just google himself, find out what was so different about his life between now and then but can’t even remember the passcodes to unlock his phone to do anything more than call and throws it against the wall in anger.

 

He runs a shaky hand through his hair and imagines a finger poking the whorl in the back of his head and it makes him laugh for some strange reason.

 

* * *

 

His friends come over to his house to check on him and watch the King and the Skater on his big tv and the hollowness recedes a bit. The house is loud and filled with warmth, the silverware is getting used for the first time in ages and Makkachin is _so_ happy, jumping in excitement, fawning over Yuuri in a way that makes Viktor jealous.

 

(Although he can’t decide who he’s jealous of.)

 

They eat Katsudon, which Viktor proclaims to be ‘Vkusno!’ much to everyone’s amusement, Mila makes Yurio wear cat ear headbands and takes a million pictures and Georgi doesn’t bring up Anya even once, instead discussing ballet with Yuuri.

 

They stay over and Viktor ends up sleeping in the living room with them, Makkachin sandwiched between him and Yurio, Yuuri on his other side, tantalisingly close while Mila takes his bedroom as the only lady in the group under many protests from Yuri and for once Viktor doesn’t feel alone when he wakes up to pillows being tossed around and Yuuri's bark of laughter as he hides behind Makkachin.

 

* * *

 

He can skate his program by himself now but cannot make it look or feel the way it did when Yuuri skated it. It makes him wonder if maybe he should give the program to Yuuri rather than doing it such an injustice.

 

It’s one of those bad days that he’s been having more often now and skating poorly doesn’t make them any better. He decides to skate Stammi Vicino instead for a bit, going with something he remembers seems to be a better idea.

 

Only, his body moves differently once he stops thinking about it and just skates. He skates his program as if it was a pair skate, holding his hand out for another, body preparing to lift someone into the air automatically, only for it to never come.

 

He feels lonely and confused. Usually he skates to take the edge off of those feelings but now suddenly skating seems to be the cause of them. His life makes no sense and he can’t take it anymore.

 

He tells Yakov he’s taking the week off and spends it huddled in bed, hiding from this new, strange world.

 

* * *

 

But even he can’t put things off so much. He takes to the ice again, determined to do better and decides to change it. If he can’t skate the routine as it is because it feels strange then he needs to make it his own again.

 

Maybe try a quadruple axel this time.

 

He finds the right place in the choreography in it, preparing to throw himself in the air when a voice pierces the air.

 

“VITYA!” He hears as he rotates in the air, but he manages to stick the landing even as his headache becomes unbearable.

 

He falls to his knees, clutching his head and suddenly remembers.

 

_Yuuri has finally won gold, which meant they were getting married after a far too long engagement, all his fault of course. But they can’t decide where to hold it._

 

_It’s going to be in Hasetsu for sure, but Viktor wants the ‘ninja castle’ and Yuuri wants the beach._

 

_“Whoever manages the quad axel first decides!” Viktor proclaims, laughing as he takes off to the centre of the rink._

 

_“Vitya, that’s silly, lets discuss this like mature adults instead of- You’re trying it right now?! Vitya, baby, don’t-“_

 

_He throws himself into the air but something feels wrong. His golden skates feel too light, like they’re falling apart, there’s something wrong with the blade and Viktor falls hard, the ice cold and hard against his head._

 

_“VITYA!”_

 

“Are you okay? Someone get the medic!” Familiar hands frantically cradle his face, shaking all the way and he opens his eyes to see Yuuri looking at him with wet eyes.

 

“Hi there,” Viktor says and Yuuri gurgles as it hits him. It was a habit Viktor had gotten into, waking up first just so he could whisper the words in his fiancé’s ears. “I guess we’re getting married at the castle.”

 

“You remember,” With a wretched sob, Yuuri buries his face in Viktor’s shoulders and he sighs. Finally, after all these months, he feels complete.

 

“Just in time too,” Viktor says around his own tears, “I put down the deposit for the castle ages ago.”

 

 

 


End file.
